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Gods and goddesses theme
The battlefield was ablaze with fire where the blood had not yet soaked the earth. It lit up the night for miles in all directions around it and warmed what would have been typically frigid air for this time of year. The sound of cannon fire was an echoing thunder that seemed to go on and on. The gunfire sounding just beneath it was chorused by the final screams of its victims.
It was music.
Or might as well have been, to the ears of a god of war.
As such, Slade knew the tune well, appreciating the range of crescendos and diminuendos as the glissando of music moved back and forth on both sides fighting throughout the night from the vantage point he had taken up on a hill far enough out to see the entirely of it. He could use his god-sight to focus in on any given part of it at will, and so kept his distance as he soaked up the essence from it that filled him like a buffet.
So entranced was he, that another was able to get far closer to him undetected than what would normally be possible.
Even so, they were still at the bottom of his hill when he did detect their company, mildly surprised by the face he instantly recognized.
“What are you doing here?” he rumbled gruffly as he turned away from the demi-god approaching and back to the spectacle before him.
“It’s nighttime,” Grayson laughed. “I’m a demigod of shadows after all. There are a lot to be had in the night with that war-fire lighting it up.”
“The night is everywhere, you don’t need to come here to this particular battle,” Slade pointed out. Grayson had to have known Slade would be close, there was no doubt about that.
The demigod continued to feign ignorance of purposefully seeking out the god of war as he reached the top of the hill with a small bounce in his step. “Don’t let me interrupt your enjoyment of it,” Grayson grinned, sidestepping the obvious.
The demi-god took up a stance next to Slade, watching with him in silence for a moment.
It wasn’t the same with someone else there, and the god of war’s attention was pulled by the incorrigible little demi that shared in the night with his god-sire Bruce.
The god of the night didn’t like Slade being anywhere around his precious little black and blue-clad child of shadows, but Grayson was an unstoppable flirt. This was especially so with Bruce’s fellow gods, even the worst of them, and Slade could hardly help the times that the boy sought him out like this. It was a game the boy played, like catching fire; trying to touch it without getting burned. Every so often, however, the boy played as if he wished to feel the burn.
Eventually it was Grayson that broke the spell of the battle’s music once more. “They always do this. Man," he clairified, "They always run into battle singing your heart-song and praises, but by the time it is done there are only screams and tears. It is so short-lived for something so wanted at the start.”
Slade merely nodded at that. “My song is one that is -indeed- short lived, but for the intensity of it. A roaring, unrelenting, brutal force that makes men feel truly alive for the first time in their measly little lives.”
“Feel alive right before they feel very dead,” Grayson mused. “Even now, they are leaving your graces by the hundreds to sing new praises to the god of mortality.”
“It is no matter if they turn their voices to Ra’s Al Ghul. He is the only one able to gain his strength from the dead. I have no use for them at that point, nor does any god. Until they enter his domain it is only important whether or not they are my devotees, giving me the strength of their convictions and their blood-lust.” Slade turned his attention to the demi beside him once more, taking in the way the fire cast flickering shadows over his fair form in the night. “You wouldn’t understand that, of course. Demi’s gain no strength through prayer and tribute, and can give nothing to mortals in return for it. Even if they could… your father’s own power stems from the mortal’s fear of the night. It is not a power I think you would ever care to have.”
Grayson actually grinned at that. “I have my own powers.”
Slade snorted in return. The powers of a demi indeed. A longer lifespan, faster recovery from wounds, and outstanding stamina were useful enough, but nothing worth bragging about to a god.
Grayson was unperturbed by Slade’s condescending response, still grinning. “No really, my own magic. My own power, unlike any other demigods.”
It wasn’t possible, but he sounded so sure…
Slade glanced over to the younger being once more taking in that precocious grin of his. “Care to share the secret of this ‘power’?” he mocked.
Dick chuckled and spun around where he stood, moving annoyingly to Slade’s other side, never able to keep still for too long. The shadows int he night played well around his ass and Slade only half wondered if the demi wasn't manipulating them or if his ass was just that defined even in the night. “If I tell you you must keep it a secret. Promise and I’ll say.”
Slade’s attention was fully on the incorrigible youth now, watching the grace in which his lean body moved with his restlessness. “Very well.”
Those pretty blue eyes smiled almost as much as his mouth did as Grayson moved closer to Slade, leaning his body against the larger being’s arm so he could rest his chin on the war-god’s shoulder, whispering to him in the dark like a lover might. His voice a soft sing-song as he spoke. “I can read the minds of the gods!”
Slade did laugh at that, just a little, a low rumble that sounded akin to rolling thunder. Now he knew the demi was full of shit. “None may seek such a power over gods.”
Grayson was still unperturbed, moving even closer against Slade, sliding under his arm to line his body up against the side of the god. The black and blue garments he wore encased him like a second skin, and Slade had a very clear impression of nearly every dip and curve of the younger being’s firm form. His soft tresses the color of pitch smelled of smoke and night-blooming jasmine, a scent Slade found he rather liked. The dip of his slim waist drew Slade’s hand like a magnet to rest upon it, making him marvel at the almost feminine feel of it. Those blue eyes met his full-on, and they had darkened noticeably with covetous interest as he stared up at the war-god. A pink, soft-looking tongue ghosted over the light part of his lips before they moved to whisper to Slade once more. “If that is the case, then do you bet me that I can not say what is on your mind at this very moment?”
Impetuous little…
Slade laughed softly again, already invigorated from the battle taking place nearby and in a lustful mood from the blood on the air. He held Grayson fast against him, claiming the demi’s lips as victoriously as any win in battle. "It's cheating if you intentionally put thoughts into the minds of gods before claiming you can read them," Slade admonished half-heartedly before he pulled the halfling up into a more thorough kiss.
The demi didn’t resist at all. The opposite rather, he wrapped his arms back around Slade, putting that clever tongue of his to better use as he met the war-god's, battling to regain territory lost within his own mouth.
Slade turned them so that the demi lost footing, sweeping him easily to the ground and covering his lithe form with his own bulk.
Grayson gasped for air, but never fully broke the kiss, trying his best to keep up with the warmonger as Slade pulled his legs open and around his own hips, rubbing against him without reprieve. Grayson arched against him, and the slide of his thinly-covered cock against Slade’s cod-piece only drove the god’s desire to higher levels, making him grind back down against the demi until he was writhing and pulsing under him. Slade ran his hand down the demi’s clothed chest and abs, feeling the power and strength there before moving lower to cup him through his garb. Grayson then broke the kiss, kicking his head back to moan outright.
Slade continued to run his hand roughly over the stiff bulge of the shadow child, working him up quickly and mercilessly. Grayson only looked all the more alluring for it, back arched and mouth open in low moans and pants, his eyes already looking utterly fucked out just from the over the clothes touching they were doing.
He panted Slade’s name once, and then the god moved in to carry out the debauchment of such a lewd demi.
Except… he couldn’t.
Not for lack of wanting to, but there was something literally holding him back. Slade glanced down to see a scythe curling around the front of his chest. It couldn’t begin to cut him, but it was doing a fair job of holding him back thanks to its wielder. Slade didn’t have to look back over his shoulder to know whom had dared.
Grayson didn’t seem to need confirmation either, disappointment leaving him slumping against the ground and heaving a heavy sigh of frustration.
“Off of him. I suggest before Bruce arrives.”
The only demi even more audacious than the one beneath him... Dick let out a frustrated whine. “Jason-
Slade’s rumbling voice cut off Dick’s whine towards their intruder. “I do not fear your god-sire, boy. Neither do I have anything to fear from the demigod of nightmares. If I take him it is my desire to do so, especially after he made such an appealing tribute of himself. Do you think you and your little weed hacker could honestly stop me if I decided to take him right now, right in front of you?”
Jason was only a demi, Slade could kill him, easily. Despite this, there was no fear in his voice when he spoke. “I bet I could make myself annoying enough that you would have to seriously hurt me or even kill me to be able to finish properly, and then how much enjoyment do you think you would really get from my brother while he mourns me?”
The demigod of shadows crying while upon Slade’s cock wasn’t quite as off-putting as the demigod of nightmares probably meant for it to be. Certainly not to a war-god anyway. The thought of the over-all trouble it would be, however, to stop Jason if he did indeed intend to keep interfering… and then the thought of dealing with Bruce’s wrath once the god of the night reached them… he supposed it wouldn’t be worth the trouble. There would be other chances. He had Grayson had a history already… there was sure to be a future as well.
Slade kept his growl to himself as he got back to his feet. Only once he stood out of reach of Grayson did the scythe leave his shoulder.
“Dick, we’re leaving. Bruce already warned you to stay away from the warzones, when he finds out-
“I’m done, alright?” Grayson snapped as he clambered to his feet, adjusting himself as he glared daggers at his fellow demi.
Jason only glared back at him before rolling his eyes, turning away to start back down the hill. “Keep coming after him, Slade, and you’ll have your own little war to worry about,” Jason growled up at the god impudently as he passed him.
Slade wasn't the least bit threatened, smirking at the demi’s departing back. “Are you saying the way to avoid that would be to come before him?”
His innuendo was not lost of the demigod of nightmares, Jason rounding on him with a snarl, his scythe raised as if it would wield any better against Slade than if he held a long-stem rose in his hands to try to cut him up with.
Grayson rushed between them, Jason turning away the weapon that could have in fact injured his brother. “Jason enough, you know that wasn’t the case, he didn’t approach me on this, but fine, I’m going, alright? Let’s go rejoin Bruce.”
It took a few moments for Jason to consider, glaring at Slade all the while. He shared Bruce’s contempt for the demi’s dalliances with the other gods, but he was far more vocal and blunt about it.
After a glance to make sure Grayson was prepared to follow him back to their sire Jason at last turned and trudged his way down the hill, his scythe resting on his shoulder.
Before turning back to immerse himself once more in the final throes of the battle taking place, Slade caught the demi’s arm before he could slip away. Those blue eyes turned up to him, sheepish now for having the moment spoiled. “We’re not finished,” Slade promised the demi. “Merely postponed. War is not something done only in the open. It takes place in the shadows too,” Slade assured him with a wink.
Grayson’s lips quirked up in a smirk at that, and that look of promise and desire returned in his eyes. He stole a fleeting kiss from the god before hurrying down the hill towards his snarling brother.
As the cries of dying men were silenced and the roaring fires dwindled down to nothing more than embers, the feeling of Grayson’s lips, his body, and his touch stayed with Slade- like a shadow.
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